6. Elora
6
ELORA
45°52′55″N 123°57′34″W
W alking out of the bathroom I just finished straightening up; I practically jump out of my skin and let out a squeak of surprise when I notice a shirtless guy around my age going through an open suitcase on the bed.
“Sorry,” he says, and I hear him over the music playing in my ears.
“It’s okay.” I laugh, taking one of my earbuds out. “I just didn’t expect anyone to be in here.”
“I should have called out.” His grin is charming. “Mag was thirsty, and I needed to grab her bowl.” He motions with a hand toward the open door, where my cleaning cart is parked outside the room, and I see a big gray Husky sitting and waiting for him right next to it.
“Hi, Mag.” I smile at the beautiful pup, with bright blue eyes that remind me of Roman’s.
“She’s friendly,” he tells me, and I take that as permission to approach her. The moment I do, her tail begins to wag frantically, and she stands. Stepping outside, I rub the top of her head and laugh when she bounces.
“She’s so cute.” I smile up at the guy now standing over me with a bowl in his hand.
“She’s also a terror.” He grins back.
“I don’t believe you.” I turn my attention to Mag. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” I bend to rub her head and down her back. Her fur is slightly damp, and there’s sand in her coat. “Did she like the beach?”
“She loved it,” he says as she lets out an excited woof like she’s answering for herself. “She didn’t want to leave.”
“I never want to leave either.” I laugh when she tries to lick my face and back up to get away from her tongue. “Do you—?” I look up at him and start to ask if he needs anything before I move along, but his gaze is focused on something behind me.
Wondering what’s caught his attention, I turn to see Roman standing a few feet away, holding two paper cups. I can’t tell what he’s thinking with the blank look on his face, but his taut jaw makes him seem annoyed. Dragging his eyes off the guy standing next to me, he meets my gaze, his expression never shifting.
My smile slides away.
Okay, then.
I look down at Mag when she nudges my hand, obviously not happy with the loss of my attention. “I didn’t forget about you.” I give her a little more love before coming out of my bend and looking at her owner once more. “I’m finished in your room, but did you need anything?”
He drops his eyes to me and smiles. “I think we’re good.”
“Cool. Have a great day.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Grabbing the handle of my cart with one hand, I give Mag one more head scratch before I begin pushing my cart down the walkway toward Roman.
“Is everything okay?” I ask softly while his eyes wander over my face.
“Yeah.” He holds one of the cups out toward me.
“What’s this?”
“Coffee.”
“Oh.” I take it, ignoring my stomach fluttering from the sweet gesture.
“From Jeff,” he adds, and the flutter disappears as I frown.
“Jeff gave you a coffee for me?”
He shrugs.
Weird, but okay. I take a sip, and it’s creamy and sweet, just the way I like it. Actually, I’d prefer it over ice, but I’m not going to turn my nose up at a free coffee.
“Who’s the guy?” he asks quietly, walking with me. When I look up at him, I find his eyes pointed ahead of us, but I know he’s asking me about Mag’s owner.
“I don’t know, someone staying here.” I stop at the housekeeping room so I can drop off the dirty laundry that’s piled on top of my cart and restock it. When I get the door open, I push it inside, and he leans against the doorjamb to watch me. “What are you up to today?”
“I have some work to do this afternoon.”
“Oh, what kind of work?” I ask, and I’m almost sure he’s not going to answer, but he steps into the room and leans against the counter, where I’ve just dumped a pile of clean towels from the dryer.
“A deal I’m closing back in New York.”
“You don’t need to be there for that?”
“It’s a real estate deal, so everything on my end can be done over the phone and online.”
“Is that what you do for work?” I lock my gaze with his. “Real estate?” He lifts his chin in response, and I nod. “Maybe you can give me some advice.” I start shoving the wet sheets from the washer into the dryer. “My mom signed the deed for her property back in Wyoming over to me, and I’ve been trying to sell it to settle her debts before it’s taken by the state, and?—”
“They shouldn’t be able to take that property from you if she signed the deed over to you, regardless of her debts.” He cuts me off, his gaze locking on mine.
“You would be right.” I tug my eyes off his to continue what I was doing. “But she passed before she could go to a lawyer and file the proper paperwork, so her estate has to clear the debt she owes, which is significant between her medical bills and the taxes she hadn’t paid in years. Something I knew nothing about until after she passed.”
“What kind of property is it?”
“It’s a little over three hundred acres with a small house and barn.”
“That’s a lot of land.”
“I know.” I glance over at him as I shut the door to the dryer. “And I know that might be part of why I haven’t had anyone show any interest.”
“But?” He adds the single word I left out.
“My mom’s family still lives there and my ex-fiancé didn’t want me to sell, and they all have strong connections in that town.” I shake my head. “I know I could just be paranoid, but do you think it’s weird that not one person has even viewed it?”
“You were engaged?”
I frown at his tone and the look he’s giving me. “Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Does that matter?” I deflect because discussing Tyler’s and my failed relationship with him is the last thing I want to do.
“No.” He shakes his head, scrubbing his fingers through his thick hair that looks so soft my fingers twitch with the urge to feel it for myself. “You don’t want to keep the land?” My muscles bunch, and he must notice, because his entire expression gentles. “There is no right or wrong answer.”
“If I answer no, I seem heartless. If I say yes, I’m stuck.”
“I’m not going to think you’re heartless.”
“You might not, but my mom’s family does.” I start loading my cart with fresh linens. “The property has been in that family for generations,” I tell him while the familiar feelings of guilt and anger land heavy in the center of my chest. “They were upset when I told them I would have to sell.”
“If they’re worried about the land staying in your family, they should purchase it from you or help you figure out how to keep it.”
“They don’t want it.”
“Then they don’t factor into any decision you make. It’s not your responsibility to make them happy.” He swings his hand back and tosses his empty coffee cup into the trash in the corner of the room. “Give me the address, and I’ll do some research. It might be a price-point issue or even a lack of exposure on the real estate agent’s part for why you haven’t gotten any inquiries.”
“You can see that?”
“Anyone with a license to sell real estate can see that.” He pushes off the counter and walks over to my cart. Taking one of the postcards we leave in the rooms from the stack on top, he hands it to me. “Jot down the address.”
Taking the pen I have stuck in the bun on top of my head, I write it quickly while he stands over me and watches.
“When did you last speak to your real estate agent?”
I look up at him. He’s so close that I can see the deep-blue ring around his eyes that now look almost green in the light coming in from the door. “I called a few days ago to see if he’s had any showings or any calls. He told me he hasn’t.”
With a nod that seems all business, he takes the card from me and shoves it into his pocket. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thank you.”
“How much longer do you have here?” he asks, ignoring my thanks, which I’m starting to see is another habit of his.
“I have about ten more rooms, then a dinner break before I need to get to the bar for my shift.”
“If I don’t catch you between then and now, I’ll tell you what I find tonight when you get off work.”
I open my mouth to tell him thank you again, but before I can even get a word out, he’s gone.
As I’m shaking my head at the empty doorway, the walkie hanging on the side of my cart buzzes to life, and Ernest’s voice cracks through the small speaker. “Elora, can you come to the office please?”
Picking it up, I hold down the button on the side. “Yep, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” Quickly, so I won’t have to do it when I get done talking to him, I finish loading my cart, then leave the room, shutting the door behind me.
The walk to the main office only takes me a couple of minutes, and when I step inside, I move around the people gathered around the front desk, waiting to be checked in or out. Waving at Molly, who works the front desk, I get her returned smile as I head toward Ernest’s private office.
I knock once, getting his quiet “come in” before I open the door. When I walk into the room, I notice a very pretty blonde a couple of years older than me sitting in the chair across from him at his desk.
“Hey, Elora.” Ernest smiles warmly, then waves a hand to the woman across from him. “This is Beth. She’s going to be taking over your job when you leave.”
My stomach drops even though I knew this would be happening. I haven’t mentally prepared myself for this moment. It feels like I’m being shoved out of the safest place I’ve been in a long time, even though I’m the one who told him I would be leaving.
“Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand to her.
“You too.” She gives me a nervous smile as she takes it.
Letting her hand go, I lower myself into the chair next to hers.
“I know you’re still working out what day next week you will be leaving,” he adds, and God, I hate the way my stomach feels. “But I wanted Beth here early so she can follow you around for the next few days and get the lay of the land.”
“Awesome.” My smile is forced.
“How many more rooms do you have left today?”
“Ten. Four of them are guests who asked for a late checkout, and the rest are just ones I need to straighten up.”
“Do you mind if she jumps in today?”
“Of course not.” I glance over at her and give her a genuine smile. My anxiety has nothing to do with her, and I don’t want to make her think that it does.
“Great,” Ernest says, then he focuses on Beth. “Can you give us a couple of minutes? When I’m done talking to Elora, she’ll come out and get you.”
“Sure.” She stands, then scoots around me to go to the door. When she’s gone, and the door is closed behind her, Ernest turns in his chair and opens a desk drawer, pulling out a large envelope.
“What’s this?” I ask when he passes it over to me.
“Just a little something to help you along your journey. You can open it.” He adds the last part when he sees me hesitate.
I’ve always felt uncomfortable opening gifts or things people give me in front of them. I’m always worried I won’t react the way they expect, and they’ll be disappointed—or worse, think I don’t appreciate the gift. Slowly, I rip open the top of the envelope, then stick my hand inside, pulling out a stack of papers.
Going through them one by one, it takes me a second to realize I’m looking at several gift vouchers for numerous hotels, along with a AAA membership and a few printed-out gift cards for fast-food restaurants. None of them are more than ten dollars each, but ten dollars at a fast-food chain can get one person a whole meal.
My nose stings as I look up at Ernest. “This is?—”
“Not much, I know.” He cuts me off, and the tears I can’t hold back spill from between my lashes.
“It’s too much.” I stand and walk around the desk, and he stands just in time for me to wrap my arms around him.
“I hope you find the peace you’re looking for, Elora,” he whispers, giving me a tight squeeze. “And if you ever need a soft place to land, the door is always open here at The View.”
“Thank you,” I choke out, wiping my eyes when he lets me go. “You’ve been so kind. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you.”
His smile is warm. “I have no doubt you would have been all right.” He rubs my arm as I attempt to pull myself together. “If you ever need anything, you know how to get ahold of me.”
I nod. “I do, and I might take you up on your offer to come back when I’m done.”
“I hope you do,” he says softly, and I drag in one more breath before I turn for the door. When I have my hand on the handle, he calls out, “Elora?” I turn to look at him. “Regardless of where you land, I hope you’ll keep in touch.”
“I will.” I open the door and step out of his office, closing it behind me. I stand there unmoving for a couple of minutes and pull myself together. After one last deep breath, I go in search of Beth.
With my feet aching and my back sore from cleaning rooms all day and running drinks all evening, I lean against the bar and look over at Roman. An hour into my shift, he showed up and ordered a soda from the bar before taking up his seat in the back of the room, where he’s been sitting alone all night with his computer and phone. I’ve gone over a couple of times to replace the water he switched to after the Coke he had, but he barely spared me a glance, even though I swear I’ve felt him watching me more than once.
When I see a pretty blonde leave the table she’s sitting at with her group of friends and walk toward him, I wait and watch. Every woman who has been brave enough to approach him tonight has left his table looking crestfallen. I haven’t seen the interactions, only the aftermath, so I’ve been curious about what the heck puts that expression on their faces.
“Last call!” Colleen shouts over the music playing from the speakers overhead, and I lose sight of Roman and the girl as the counter is swarmed by people wanting to get one last drink before the bar is closed.
I begin taking orders at the bar since Beth is working the floor. She told me today while we were cleaning rooms that she’s always been a server, and it shows. I haven’t seen her fumble once, and Colleen realized the same and called me behind the bar when she noticed Beth could handle the floor on her own.
“Elora.”
“Yeah?” I look over at Colleen as I open beers and fill drink orders.
“I’m going to miss you, girl.” My lips part in disbelief. I know Ernest said she mentioned to him that I’ve been doing a great job, but I truly thought she only tolerated me. Maybe she actually likes me.
“Same,” I get out, and she shakes her head before focusing back on the customer in front of her.
Before long, Colleen, Beth, and I have filled every last order, so we start the process of shutting down the bar, and with the three of us working in sync, things take less time than normal. By the time we’re done, the bar is empty of customers—including Roman, who left without me even seeing him go.
“So, how do you feel?” I ask Beth while tossing my apron into the bucket under the sink, a bucket I pointed out to her earlier so she would know she has to come pick it up in the mornings before going to the housekeeping room.
“Tired.” She smiles.
“Yeah.” I laugh, glancing over at Colleen when she calls out to the two of us. Walking over to her, I accept the cash she hands me and shove it into my pocket, watching Beth do the same with the money Collen passes her.
“Is there anything else I need to do?” Beth asks, glancing around the empty bar.
“No, you girls can go,” Colleen tells her, sounding distracted as she walks toward the back room.
“Okay, night,” she calls, and Colleen waves her off without a reply.
“I don’t think she likes me much,” Beth says softly as we walk toward the door together, and I laugh.
“Her bark is worse than her bite,” I assure her. “I’ve been here for five months and had no idea she even liked me until tonight .”
“Good to know.” She smiles as we step outside, where a good-looking man with hair almost as light as hers is waiting.
“Hey.” He smiles at Beth, and she walks toward him, falling into his spread arms.
“James, this is Elora. Elora, my husband James,” she introduces as she curls into his side.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer him a smile.
“You too,” he replies before he kisses the top of her head. “You ready to get home?”
“Yes.” She yawns, then looks at me. “Night, Elora.”
“Good night. See you tomorrow morning.” I watch the two of them walk off to the parking lot; then I start toward my room.
Halfway down the sidewalk, I stumble when I see a tall figure wearing a black hoodie and shorts walking in my direction through the shadows of the trees. I wrap my hand around my keys in my pocket, and my heart beats wildly against my rib cage until I realize that the man approaching me is Roman. “You scared me.” I let out a breath.
“Sorry.” He gives me a half smile as I close the distance between us. “Did you have a good night?”
“Yeah, it was busy.”
“I noticed.” He turns with me as I walk toward our rooms, and I have the strangest urge to lean my weight into him.
“You looked busy too.” I glance up at him, and he drops his gaze to mine.
“I was catching up on emails and shit for work,” he replies, and I nod as we take the stairs side by side. “I spoke to your real estate agent today.”
“You did? I thought you were just looking it up in your fancy real estate agent system.” I take out my keys.
“I called to ask him about your property when he didn’t respond to my email.”
“Oh.” I open the door to my room and toss my purse onto my bed. When I turn to face him, he’s standing in the doorway with his hand tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. “You can come in.” He hesitates, then steps into the room, shutting the door. I open the small closet, toeing off my shoes, and ask, “What did he say?”
“I told him I was interested in purchasing it, and he immediately told me about some other properties he has.”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder as I start to take off my sweater. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that normal?” I pull my sweater over my head, leaving my tank top on, then turn to face him after grabbing a hanger.
“No.”
“Do you think I should find another real estate agent?”
“That land is beautiful, Elora,” he says softly while his expression fills with something so sweet it makes my throat tight. I hang up my sweater as he continues. “Even with the shitty job the photographer did, you can see how picturesque it is.”
I swallow. “I know.”
“You don’t want to keep it?”
“It’s not a matter of want.” I shake my head and close the closet door, then I walk to the chair in the corner of the room, falling into it. “My mom owed a lot of money to the state and even more to the government and hospitals. It will take me twelve lifetimes to earn enough to pay everything off and set things right.”
With a nod, he takes a seat on the end of my bed and leans toward me. “Then yes, you need another real estate agent. It’s obvious yours isn’t looking out for your best interest.”
“Great.” I sigh, picking at the frayed hem of my jean shorts. “Tomorrow, I’ll look into some other real estate agents.”
“I found a couple already and spoke to them about the situation. I’ll get your number and text you their information.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you eat?” he asks when my stomach rumbles so loudly he obviously hears it from where he’s sitting.
“I didn’t have enough time between housekeeping and the bar.”
“What’s open in town?”
“Nothing. All the restaurants in town open early and close early.” I roll my eyes when he gives me a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. I have stuff to hold me over until morning.” I motion toward the bag sitting next to my bed.
He glances behind him at it. “Junk food.”
“It’s still food.”
“You do my head in.”
“Why?” I frown.
“Nothing.” He sighs while standing. “I have a couple of oranges and a banana in my room. I’ll go get them for you.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“You need to eat something that isn’t junk food,” he mutters, walking to the door and leaving it open as he steps out.
When he walks back in a minute later, he places one of the oranges and the banana on the dresser. I expect him to hand me the other orange, but instead, he begins to peel it, making a perfect spiral with the bright-colored rind.
“Thank you.” I take it when he hands it to me, then watch him walk to my bathroom, and hearing something hit the empty trash can, and the water turn on.
“Where is your cell?” he asks, strolling back out.
“In my bag. You can grab it,” I answer and motion to my purse on the bed instead of asking him why he always ignores me when I say “Thank you.” I shove a chunk of orange into my mouth and chew while he grabs my bag, opens it, and takes out my phone.
“You don’t have a lock code on it?” He frowns, bringing the screen to life.
“No,” I mumble with my mouth full. He shakes his head, doing something on my device, then I watch him take out his phone when it starts to ring. I study him and his tattooed hands as he ducks his head and types on my cell, then switches to his, totally focused like he was at the bar earlier.
“Now you have my number, and I have yours.” He rests my cell on the dresser and meets my gaze. “I also sent you the two real estate agents I found. You can call them tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
He jerks his chin up as he looks at my empty hand. “Do you want another orange?”
“I’m okay.”
“The banana, then.” He doesn’t give me a choice. He picks it up and quickly pulls the skin back before holding it out to me. I thank him again over a yawn I can’t hold back, and his face softens. “You need to get some sleep.”
“I plan on it after I shower.” I stand while his eyes wander over my face, and I see his hand come up slightly before he nods and tucks it into the pocket of his shorts.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He starts to turn toward the door.
“Will you?” I ask, and he stops to look at me, a frown marring his handsome face. “You’re not going home?” I clarify.
“Not yet.” Relief—an overwhelming amount of it—washes over me.
I follow him to the door and stand back as he opens it. When he’s outside, I grab the handle and lean out slightly to watch him go to his door.
“Night, Roman.”
“Night, Elora,” he says quietly, then lets himself into his room.
Shutting my door, I lock it, then look down at the banana I didn’t want but will now have to eat because I hate wasting food.
And feel a smile creeping up on me.